Monday, October 5, 2009

The Attack and the Decay: Part 2.

The Attack and the Decay: Part 2

I walk into my personal health clinic, down the hall, second door on the right. It’s homebound. Not many can afford these nowadays. Neither can I. I have connections. Illegal ones. My physical condition required my own health center, but they don’t issue those to single, unaccomplished, poverty-line females, especially if they’re teachers. They don’t want to “encourage the unsanitary moral fabric that public education manifests.” Thus we get no funding, no support, and essentially, the slow decay of life that others are given the right to overcome with modern technologies. They figure if we die off eventually, they’ll control everything soon enough. The chance of revolt will be far slimmer.

But I was never one for politics. I gave them up years ago. After the loss of a lover. One who indulged in them to the fullest. Filled his life with political trifles – all the way to the brim. I used to play the part for him. Dinner parties, soirees, meetings, conferences, campaigns, and the like. I thought at first it was for me. I thought I cared. I thought a difference could be made. But then I saw the light – the kind that’s blinding; that you don’t want to look at but can’t help because its beams are so pervading. And it made me realize that it was all a lie. And with the realization of this truth came the loss of my greatest passion, my greatest love. My first love. But I could not lie to myself – I could not be untrue to the deepest of my core – just for love. Such love cannot defeat the everyday troubles that come with difference in ideals. So I took my separate road. And at the next exit, I left behind my passion and his passion. And never again did I involve myself with politics. It was all a sham. As our love had been.